


Respectable

by ljs



Category: These Old Shades - Georgette Heyer
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-15
Updated: 2011-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljs/pseuds/ljs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rupert has accused Avon of becoming staid and respectable. There may be a grain of truth in the accusation...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Respectable

As if blown by the strongest north wind, the Duchess of Avon storms into the study at Avon Court, where the Duke is attending to the affairs of his estate.

(The previous evening Rupert had opined that “you're grown staid and respectable, Avon. Positively respectable!” The Duke had allowed the Duchess to chastise the impertinent young man with a foil she'd taken from the wall – perhaps because there was a grain of truth in the accusation.)

Despite her recent exercise of unladylike skills, she does not appear happy. Indeed the impression is confirmed with her first words: “Monseigneur, it is disgraceful!”

“What is that, _mignonne_?” he says without looking up from his papers.

She drops into the armchair nearest the desk and slouches in a manner very like Leon the page. The Duke's mouth twitches as if to hide a smile, but he does not otherwise react. In any event, she does not notice. “A pig-person of a tenant, Justin. When Jennifer and I were riding--”

“Oh? Madam Merivale accompanied you?” he says. “That does put me in mind that the Merivales come to sup with us tonight. I shall be sure to wear my blue. With diamonds, I should think.”

“For a country dinner?” The Duchess is diverted; twinkling in her enchanting way, she says, “Oh, Monseigneur, you are full of caprices. This is to tease Milord Merivale, yes? That you dress for Paris even here at the Court?”

“Yes,” he says, and lays down his pen, and smiles at her.

She makes a moue of impatience. “Do not distract me so, Justin. I was speaking of a tenant of yours, who is quite...”

“I pray you, Leonie, do not say 'pig-person' again.”

“Yes, Monseigneur. But he is.”

The Duke now perceives that she is indeed in earnest, and the languid air he so often affects dissipates into the spinning of dust in the sunlight which comes through the window behind him. As he leans into the shadows: “Tell me what he has done.” The unspoken conclusion is 'and I shall punish him.'

She waves a hand. “It is not... I understand that men have tempers. Even you, Monseigneur! But as Jennifer and I rode by the furthest farm this afternoon, he was...” She pauses. “Hurting his daughter.”

“Was he, indeed.” He does not need to ask further: he knows that, indomitable as she is, the scars of her upbringing do open at times. “Did you attack him? Strike him with your crop, vowing vengeance?”

“Do you mock me, Justin?”

“No.” Indeed he speaks truth. He loves her courage, the way she has transformed the Saint Vire fury into right action.

“Well, I did not. He saw us, and dragged the poor child into his cottage, and then Jennifer urged me away.” She is clearly disappointed in the propriety of her own behaviour. “So I thought I would lay the problem before you.”

The Justin Alastair of a few years ago would not have recognized this as a problem at all: he had no inherent philanthropic feelings, and a great deal of selfishness. Leonie has transformed him, too. And it is Leonie's Justin, the man who knows just how hard her young life was, who says, “I shall deal with the man for you.”

“I knew you would, Monseigneur,” she says, and the words are simple faith and honesty.

These hang in the study for a moment, spinning in the late afternoon sunlight.

In a heartbeat, however, the Duchess is out of her chair, around the desk, and into the Duke's lap. “Thank you, Justin,” she whispers, and kisses him until she wrenches a soft sigh from out his mouth, until his hand steals under her skirts, up and up until she opens for him....

The Duke is not entirely staid and respectable, one must understand. Not entirely.


End file.
